Harry Potter and the Cursed Underwear
by trenzaloki
Summary: Harry and Ron are the victims of a wizarding prank.


It was Harry and Rons' second year at Hogwarts, and some of the students had recently begun to master some unconventional magic. "Incommoditas pruritu," George whispered, waving his wand at Harry's underwear drawer. Fred laughed with him, and they quickly scurried out of the second years' dormatories.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER," the howler shouted in Harry's face, "GET YOUR LAZY ASS OUT OF BED RIGHT NOW AND GO TO YOUR CLASS."

It must have been Fred and George. They always did this on late start days, just to trick him.

"Harryyyy, tell Fred and George to stop sending howlers," Ron groaned as he threw a pillow at Harry.

"Mmm..." he groaned into his pillow, "What is it?"

"You cannot tell me you didn't hear that? Fred and George sent another bloody howler," Ron rolled over in bed after noticing that they had 4 hours until they needed to be awake.

"Uh huh," Harry spoke, "Later."

They both immediately fell asleep again, only to awaken to another howler.

"RONALD WEASLEY, YOU COME TO POTIONS CLASS RIGHT THIS INSTANT," it screeched.

"Aaaaaahhh," Ron smothered his own face with a pillow. He still had two hours until classes started today. _Shit, are the late start days tomorrow?_ Fumbling around his nightstand, he grabbed his broken wand. Waving it wildly, he murmured, "Accio calendar." His calender flew dangerously through the air, and he only caught it a few moments before it hit his face. In less than three seconds, Ron was flailing around, yelling at Harry to get up, and about how it wasn't a late start day. By now they had already missed 2 of their classes, but the teachers of those classes wouldnt care. The passing period to their third period class just ended; they were already late for the next class. That might not have mattered much, but their third period class was Potions. Snape would most definitley take pleasure in punishing them, and the more they were late, the worse the punishment would be.

Ron scrambled to the nearest dresser and pulled on a new pair of underwear before he put on his robes. Then they grabbed their textbooks and sprinted out of their dormitory, racing to Potions class.

They burst through the door in the back of the classroom and the entire class turned around and snickered as the two disheveled boys scrambled to their seats.

"Hmm... Potter and Weasley. Don't you even _think_," Snape spat at them as he leaned on their desks, "that you can enter my classroom late without _punishment._"

"We thought that it was a late start day, sir," Ron said timidly.

Snape swiftly picked up Ron's textbook and smacked him on the head with it. An audible snicker could be heard across the classroom, undoubtably Draco. "If you are ever late to my class again, Mr. Weasley, you will be reporting to detention every day until you manage to graduate. Is... that... clear..."

"Yes sir."

"Now, Mr. Potter, you are also aware of the consequences, am I correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now class, who can tell me what you get when you mix wormwood with-"

"You dimwits," Hermione whispered from the row behind them. They glanced at each other and rolled their eyes, ignoring the comment.

Ron had been shifting uncomfortably in his seat since they arrived. Harry was trying to concentrate on the lesson, but Ron was distracting. "Ron, what the hell are you doing? Sit still."

"I can't!" He looked around, looking guilty, "My pants are itchy."

"Ignore it. We have an exam next class, pay attention!"

He continued scratching at his crotch, trying and failing to avoid being seen. A few people giggled and pointed it out to their friends, but Ron was too irritated to care.

Finally the class was dismissed, but instead of taking advantage of the midday break in classes, Harry and Ron were required to attend quidditch practice.

When they arrived at the locker rooms, Ron jumped in the shower quickly before practice. He washed off whatever sort of itching powder must have been on him, and he rinsed his underwear as well. "Harry, help me for a sec."

"What is it?"

"You know the spell to dry things off, right?"

"Bloody hell Ron, you need to actually learn these spells one day," he waved his wand and recited the incantation at the wet underwear, immediately drying it off.

"Thanks mate."

"Hurry up. Wood's having us warm up early today."

Ron hurried as much as possible to get dressed, but still ran out onto the field late.

"Weasley, shower in the morning next time, ya ginge!" Oliver yelled when Ron ran out onto the field.

"Sorry Wood."

He hopped onto his broom and soared into his position. They were having a scrimmage with Hufflepuff and the other team was winning at the moment because Griffindor was outnumbered. After about a minute of playing, Ron started itching again. Not wanting to get off his broom and give up the game, he continued to play through the distraction.

After two hours of flying around on an extremely uncomfortable broomstick, Ron landed on the ground and ran back to his dormatory as quickly as he could. When he got there, he took another shower, then got dressed. Finally the itching stopped, and as he lay on his bed with a sigh of comfort, he knew that Harry would likely make fun of him for this for the rest of his life.

The next morning really _was _a late start day, so the boys woke up late and got ready slowly. Harry took a long shower and, not realizing it, stayed in the shower until halfway through breakfast. When he realized this, he hopped out and got changed to run to the last of breakfast.

As he sat down at the Griffindor table he, like Ron had yesterday, started getting extremely itchy. "Ron!" Harry yelled down the table. About thirty feet away, Ron was enjoying a few hearty breakfast burritos. Harry motioned for him to sit over by him.

"You need somefing?" Ron said through a mouthful of burrito. "I waf hafing a converfafion."

"Did you put that itching powder in my underwear this morning?" He whispered.

"Bloody hell Harry, why would I do that? It practically got uf a death threat from Fnape yefterday!"

"I think somebody cursed our underwear."

"Thatf ridiculouf," Ron said as he stuffed another bite of burrito into his mouth.

"Would you mind taking a break from the burrito for a moment, Ron?"

He set the burrito down on the closest plate and said, "I don't understand. Why would somebody do that?"

"Well it's not dangerous, so it was probably a prank. But the main problem is that whoever cast the spell has to either be a Griffindor or know the password to the dormatory. We just need to figure out who it is."

"Right, then we can tell Dumbledore."

"No, this needs to be settled between us and them. No professors. Who do you think it was?"

"Malfoy."

"How do you know?"

"Have you seen what his family thinks of mine? And you? Trust me, it's Malfoy."

"Alright. How are we going to get back at him?

"Well we can't get into the Slytherin dorms. I'm sure their whole house knows about this, it would never slide. Maybe something during class?"

"Or during a meal."

"Yeah, how about we curse the entire Slytherin table?"

"We'd get caught..." Harry paused, "Theres a lot we can do by replacing some ingredients at his potions desk."

"Yeah, but er... let's get Hermione to help us with that."

"Of course, do you think I'd trust _you_ to think of a potions recipe?"

"Shut up, you aren't any better."

A few days later, they had collected the ingredients they were planning to switch with Draco's. When they walked into Potions that morning, Snape wasn't there, so they hurried to Draco's desk and emptied the bags into the containers on his desk. If Draco made the potion correctly, this would permanently dye his hair bright blue and make his voice rise two octaves for about 2 weeks.

They hurried back to their own desks and sat down, finally unplagued by the itchy underwear, since they figured out the counterspell. "Now what do we do?" Ron asked, looking nervously around the classroom.

Harry smiled at Ron, "We wait."

"Harry," Ron complained after waiting for a few minutes, "What if we get caught?"

"We won't. Just be quiet and don't call attention to yourself. It's a normal day. Alright?"

Ron swallowed his fear and tried to look normal for as much of class as he could, but when Snape told them to make their potions, he started to freak out. Harry kicked him under the desk and glared at him, so he calmed down. When most of the class was already making their potions, Harry and Ron kept a close eye on Draco, watching for the sudden change of hair color or vocal range.

It happened, and with an explosion, Draco's platinum blonde hair was turned electric blue. Even his eyebrows and eyelashes adopted this new color. "What was that?" He exclaimed, startled by his suddenly high-pitched voice. "What's happening? Who did this? Why is my voice so-" he cut himself off, "_Potter_!"

"Mr. Malfoy, I am obligated to remind you that one more fight and you will be expelled. Continue if you wish," Snape spoke slowly.

"Mark my words, Potter, I'll get you back for this."

Harry couldn't help but smile when Draco talked. It sounded a bit like he was on helium, and none of the students could keep from laughing at least a little bit.

"My father will hear about this," Draco squeaked and stormed out of the room.

Just a few minutes later, the class got out. When Harry and Ron walked out of the classroom, Fred and George were leaning against a pillar across the hallway watching them. Rolling his eyes, Ron led Harry over to them.

"We heard about the potion fiasco."

"Too simple-minded."

"Amateur, really."

"Ask us for help next time, will ya?"

"Also make sure that you prank the right person next time." They both laughed uncontrollably, then high fived each other.

"What do they mean," Harry asked Ron.

Ron sighed, "Malfoy didn't put an itching spell on your underwear," Ron was pissed off. "My brothers did."

Harry and Ron stood in the hallway looking down upon the collapsed jokesters, contemplating their punishments, but thinking about the big picture, they started to chuckle. Soon they were laughing nearly as hard as Fred and George. Who cares about what could happen to them? This was funny. Isn't that all that matters?


End file.
